Wars we can't win
by TheGoldCard
Summary: Robin blames himself for the death of the Exalt and is unable to overlook his own shortcomings. With the war causing increasingly more causalities and the country of Ylisse losing faith in the royal family, the Tactician decides to push himself to his limits. This puts Robin at great risk, much to Tharja's dismay, who to her horror realizes how much he means to her.
1. Renewal

_I just wanted to state right away: I am not a great author. Maybe I am even terrible. But I simply love these characters and hate the idea  
that there will be no more stories told about them, so I decided to sit down and write something myself. I hope you enjoy._

* * *

His knees were weak from the impact of his opponents axe. Struggling to keep his balance, he anxiously observed the plegian soldier before him. The down pour, which hadn't let up since their arrival at the Midmire, had drenched his hair causing it to drape into his face and obscure his vision. One wrong move at this moment could easily cost him his life.

On any other day he wouldn't have gotten himself into this situation to begin with. He would have had a fool proof plan on how to keep injuries and casualties to a minimum, while striking with the least amount of resources and energy exhausted.

Not on this day however. There had been no time to so much as catch his breath in the last twenty four hours. The Exalt was dead. She had sacrificed herself in hopes of achieving the peace she so strongly believed in. Chrom and the rest of the Shepherds had to flee in the immediate aftermath, powerless to deliver justice of any kind to the mad king Gangrel. They were even robbed of the right to take Emmeryns body with them and provide her with a proper burial.

The idea of such a kind, peace loving woman being held captive by Plegia, even in death, sickened Robin to his core.

Lost in his thoughts he almost failed to notice the sharp edge of a hand axe coming down on him. Taken by surprise he ducked under it and struck his opponent through the opening he had created. With a heavy thud, the plegian mercenary's lifeless body hit the ground.

Robin took a few steps back and for the first time in a long time, took a good look around himself. He had gotten separated from the rest of the group it seemed. The sound of clashing steel echoed across the hills surrounding him. Following them were blood curdling screams of dying men and women giving their life for the causes they believed in.

The young tactician tried to collect himself and device a plan he could relay to Chrom, but Robin had to find him first. He ran across the muddy field, his eyes scanning the horizon while constantly having to ensure his feet weren't going to give out under him. It didn't take him too long to spot the mighty Falchion shimmering even in the darkest hour as it cut down Ylisses enemies.

Mentally and physically exhausted, Robin made his second mistake this battle. Having directed all his focus to Chrom fighting a battle alongside Frederick only a few yards away, Robin had failed to notice the silent but swift Wyvern rider rushing him from his flank. With a loud roar the Wyvern appeared in Robin's peripheral vision far too late for him to react to the incoming attack. Instinctively he held up his hands to shield his face, his body having taken over after realizing there was no way out.

To his surprise, the impact he was expecting never came. Instead a loud explosion shook his body. The fires heat engulfed him, yet didn't burn through his clothes and skin. The question why he wasn't dead repeated in his mind over and over, as he lowered his guard and allowed himself to see.

The Wyvern and its rider were on the ground before him. Both of their bodies were charred and the face of the rider was unrecognizable.

 _Magic,_ he thought. Someone had used a fire tome to blow the two out of the air at the last second. Eager to spot his savior, Robin spun around and was genuinely surprised. A few feet away from him, having a terrible time catching her breath, was the plegian dark mage they had recruited yesterday during their attempt to save the exalt. Judging by her stance, the sweat glistening on her forehead and the aforementioned difficulties breathing, she must have ran as quickly as she could to perform her spell at the maximum possible distance. Taken aback by her willingness to go to such lengths to protect a stranger from her own people, he simply stared at her for a few seconds too long, before putting a weak smile on his lips and nodding towards her.

Surprisingly, she seemed to ignore him or at least take no note of Robin. Not wanting to get caught up in idle thoughts, especially at this moment, he joined Chroms side.

"Robin! That was way too close my friend." the prince spoke. Even at such a low point of his life, with clear despair written all across his face, Chrom put the well being of his friends before his own.

"I am sorry I haven't been able to assist you and our troops so far," Robin replied. "I got separated when their initial assault began."

Chrom simply nodded, a sign of understanding with no hint of criticism on his features. Robin silently thanked him for not blaming him for any further loss, as he had, in the tacticians eyes, every right to.

He had failed them all. It was his fault the exalt was dead, and more of their group would be injured or fall in this battle. All because his strategies were worthless. He watched as the two knights that had taken him in fought of one assailant after the other with relative ease, despite their evident fatigue.

Robin snapped out of self hatred long enough to sling a spell towards a soldier who went for a strike against Chroms unguarded flank. The prince looked back at Robin and gave him a thankful smile. With the sounds of combat slowly dying down, the battle came to its end.

* * *

A few hours after the battle at the Midmire, Robin was sunken deep in his thoughts inside his tent. Laid out in front of him was the map of the continent and all sorts of tools he used to prepare the Shepherds next move. However his mind was crawling with doubtful thoughts. He kept replaying the last two battles they've been through in his head, trying to find a way he could have prevented all of it. Each time he failed to find a perfect solution, he blamed his lack of skill and wisdom and loathed himself more.

In a moment of despair he threw all of his scrolls and maps off of the table and got up off his seat. He paced back and forth while rubbing his temples. He felt responsible for everyone in this camp. Every last fighter that had joined their cause was relying on his decisions to survive another day of war. Chrom had trusted him with the life of his sister, the exalt of Ylisse, the shining ray of hope for her people. Robin had failed them all.

"Please stop, my friend."

Robin spun around to find himself face to face with the very prince he just thought about.

Chroms face didn't attempt to hide his concern as he put his hand on the tacticians shoulder.

"I see you struggling with what has transpired and it hurts to witness," Chrom said, his weary eyes showing absolute sincerity. "You are not to blame for what happened. Do not shoulder this burden when it is all of ours to bear."

Robin hung his head in disbelieve.

"How can you say that?" he asked. "I've failed you and your country."

"Emmeryn would disagree," Chrom responded.

They stood together silently, supporting each other by refusing to back down from the anguished they felt as the words left Chroms lips.

Robin simply nodded and in return received a light pat on his shoulder. With nothing meaningful left to say Chrom turned and left his friends tent.

* * *

The next morning Robin awoke early and made his rounds through the camp ground, checking on each of their members and taking stock of what they had left in terms of weapons and armor. He needed all the information he could get in order to plan their next move.

He watched as Ricken and Nowi ran across camp, possibly chasing each other, carefree as ever. He envied them in a sense, but also knew how important it was that he couldn't get distracted by the simple pleasures in life. Avoiding the gaze of any of his comrades, lest they were to engage in a conversation with him on his patrol, he failed to notice the figure in front of him. He stopped just short of bumping into her and his face immediately flushed with embarrassment.

"I apologize! Evidently I wasn't looking where I was going," he began. His apology was cut short when he looked at the person before him, and recognized his savior from their last battle.

"It's okay," the gloomy mage almost whispered past the bangs hiding her eyes.

Robin gulped at what he could only assume was intense disdain. He seemed to have left a horrible first impression. Despite this, he knew exactly what he had to say next.

"I wanted to thank you," Robin began, having reclaimed his calm demeanor. "You saved me at Midmire and I am grateful."

He couldn't quite make out an expression with half her face being concealed by black hair, but he was relieved when a small smile spread across her lips.

"You're welcome," the girl responded, clutching her tome close to her chest.

 _Was she just shy?_ Robin wondered. She had only joined them very recently and had betrayed the very country Chrom was waging war against, so it could be that she simply felt like an outcast. That wouldn't do.

"I am sorry, I haven't really gotten the chance to learn anything about you, considering how and when you joined," Robin spoke honestly. "May I ask your name?"

Upon hearing his words, the girl seemed to tense up, and her stance became more defensive. That was the last thing Robin wanted to achieve.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he continued. "I totally understand."

"That's not it!" she quickly responded, apparently to her own displeasure. "I... my name is Tharja."

Relieved, Robin allowed himself to relax a bit more, in the hopes of allowing her to do the same. It would be terrible if one of their allies wasn't comfortable with their own tactician.

"I am happy to make your acquaintance Tharja," Robin said in his friendliest tone. "I am-"

"Robin, I know." she swiftly cut him off, squirming under his gaze.

Taken aback for a second, he quickly figured that Chrom had probably made her aware of him during her recruitment. More than a bit embarrassed he tried to keep his cool.

"Oh, yeah. I guess you would know," he said a little bit bashful. He had no idea where to take this conversation next and the way Tharja constantly shifted her weight from one foot to the other, looking as if she was ready to run away, he doubted she would help him come up with a new topic.

"I have to finish up my rounds of the camp," he eventually stated.

"I see..." came the timid response. "I didn't mean to distract you."

"No you didn't," Robin assured. "It was really, uh, nice talking to you!"

With that he put on his best smile and began walking past her towards the edge of the camp grounds. He hadn't lied to her, he felt it was good and important for him to talk to and have a decent relationship with each member of the Shepherds. Still, something about her felt a little off and she made what should have been a small exchange of niceties more awkward than it needed to be.

"Tharja," he quietly whispered to himself. "What an interesting name."

* * *

Tharja pressed herself as flat as she could against the tree in front of her. It took little effort to silence her breathing as to not give herself away. When she was certain there was no risk of being spotted, she peeked past the tree and watched Robin as he reached the end of camp. Back here, where no one ever came except for some alone time or sparring sessions, she was at no risk to be found watching Robin from a comfortable distance.

This wasn't the first time she had done this either. Ever since she had joined Chrom and his party, for some reason she couldn't fully explain, she felt the need to watch him every moment of her life.

It was also only thanks to this strange desire, that she had been there in time to save him that time. She cursed herself when she had lost him in the fight that had ensued. The thought of finding his corpse along side dozen more made her want to throw up. When Tharja spotted him, unaware of the imminent threat coming his way, her heart and mind began to race. She felt honest panic and her actions became guided more by instinct than thought. She had never found any value in another persons life, so why was he suddenly causing these reactions in her?

Tharja also wasn't necessarily the stalking kind until she had joined his company, but he seemed to be her first for everything.

She quickly retreated back into her hiding spot when Robin prepared to return to the camp. Unbeknownst to him, he was mere inches away from her as he passed by the tree she was using as cover. Tharja had to resist the urge to grab him by his arm and pull him close to her.

Once more she found herself perplexed by her own thoughts. This was so very unlike her. She usually shunned peoples company and yet all she wanted was to be near him.

Suddenly, one horrible word completely filled her mind. A word that caused her to break out into panic. She sat down on the moss covered grass surrounding the tree, wrapped her arms around her legs and placed her chin on her knees.

She felt disgust rising within her. This couldn't be. What powerful magic had he performed to make her feel this way? She was fine on her own, that's how she wanted it to be. And yet, it was quite clear now what had driven her to fixate on him the second she joined the princes army.

The most horrible and vile thing she could imagine: Love.


	2. Sacrifices

_Hey! I didn't actually expect anyone to read this, let alone be positive towards it. So, thanks for that! I am not sure at which rate I will update this, but I will do my best to get chapters out as often as possible. Let me know what you think._

* * *

The smell of signed flesh lingered in the air. The sound of metal clashing drowned out continuous screaming. Sand and dust were blending in a dazzling whirl, blinding those that had come to fight this day. Quicksand swallowed the ones who would dare to set foot into it, leaving them open to be struck down in cold blood. On this day, mother nature herself seemed to be against them.

From a vantage point on top of a small boulder, not far from the main battle, Robin watched the bloodshed in dismay. He couldn't have possibly factored the weather and environment he knew nothing of into his strategy. Nobody within their company, not even Tharja, the only plegian among them, had ever traversed the dunes that had become today's battle field.

The tactician knew he had done all he could, which was precisely what troubled him most. He should have done better, should have met with associates that could tell him more about the conditions of a land he had never been to. By gods, he should have been able to make accurate predictions about the weather itself to ensure their victory. Alas, he failed.

Despair began brewing in his heart as he witnessed men he had sent into combat fall to the ground, their bodies limp and motionless, never to stand again. Chrom had asked him to stay at a safe distance in order to provide further instructions without putting himself in harms way, but how could he honor this request? How could Robin put lives at risk without offering his own?

"Is there no end to them!?"

Upon hearing the voice of one of his friends in distress, Robin whirled around to spot Miriel standing only a few feet away, surrounded by plegian forces. With a tome laying open in her hand, the witch was conjuring a fire spell to hurl at another mage across from her. A second soldier, a burly man with a heavy axe in his hand, came hulking towards Miriel from her rear.

Having not a second to lose, Robin slid off the boulder he was on and pulled out his own magical tome. With a few hand motions he had flipped through its pages and arrived at just the spell he was looking for.

"Elwind!" Robin shouted, his left hand directed towards Miriel's assailant. In the blink of an eye, green blades formed by the wind began cutting through air and found their mark. With a deep gurgling, the heavy man fell to the ground and remained there for eternity.

Feeling proud of himself for just a moment, Robin rushed to Miriel's side as her opponent fell as well.

"Thank you for your aid," Miriel said as she lowered her tome. "For a moment I feared my life would come to an end."

"Nonsense." Robin replied.

The young man put his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed it, hoping to give her support. Despite her stilted behavior and speech, Robin could read the real fear on her face.

"You can retreat to the camp and let the others know we require backup!" Robin said. Undoubtedly Miriel was aware that he simply wanted to give her an excuse to slip away from the battle field and would have possibly even considered it an insult. It mattered not to Robin. For the first time he saw up close how much fear his comrades felt each time he handpicked them to fight for them.

Indeed, Miriel's face froze for a second, as if she was considering the option and hating herself for it. Her head shook wildly as she reached a decision.

"No, I shall not leave while I may still draw the breath my body requires," she replied.

"Understood." Robin said, before leaving her side to join the fray.

* * *

Desperately searching for Chrom, Robin had been dodging arrows and fire bolts directed at him while sprinting across the sandy dunes. He was certain the prince had begun fighting the mad king and his personal retainers, and Robin desired nothing more than to be there by his side when that heinous excuse for a human being would meet it's end. Hell, he would relish in it even more if the chance to kill Gangrel was given to him. The monster who took the exalt from her beloved kingdom. The fiend had to pay.

Another arrow was too close to hitting it's mark. It grazed Robin's leg and the strategist, shocked by the sudden pain, barely avoided a fall. Still, his forward momentum had ceased and he was now an easy target for those taking aim at him. Out of the corner of his vision, he spotted a mage conjuring earth's very essence around himself to cast a spell at him. While considering a way to escape a swift demise, Robin was surprised by a figure suddenly appearing by his side. Even more unforeseen was the bow the man next to him quickly drew to fire an arrow before the plegian caster even had the time to react.

"Was me rescuing you also part of your strategy, my friend?" Virion asked, a sly smile crossing his lips.

Robin knew it was a simple jest, but he felt a slight sting nonetheless.

"I am sorry Virion," he said. "I was careless."

Virion chuckled. "Oh don't worry Robin. If I'd let you die here, who'd I best in our little games ever night? Beside-"

His sentences was cut short by the sound of a projectile speeding past them. Robin instinctively rolled to the side as an evasive maneuver.

The strategist quickly got back on his feet and scanned the horizon. "Sounded like an arrow. That was too close for comfort my friend."

Looking back over to Virion, he was surprised to find his ally laying flat on his stomach. Upon closer inspection, the blood pooling beneath him strangely disconcerted him.

"Virion?"

He took a step toward the archer. Another moment of silence filled the air with dread.

"Virion!"

Robin fell to his knees besides his friend and rolled him over. The sight of an arrow buried into Virion's forehead horrified him. A shiver ran down his spine and revulsion rose within him.

 _He's dead._

Robin shook his body in disbelief.

 _He is dead!_

Robin screamed his friend's name.

 _Virion is dead!_

Bitter, hot tears rolled down Robin's face as he began accepting the situation. Clinging desperately to Virion's lifeless body, he let out another anguished scream. It felt like an eternity passed with Robin kneeling in the sand, staring at the body in front of him. Virion had paused for him. The man had to save Robin's life, due to the latter's mistake. This was his doing. Without Robin failing as a soldier and tactician, Virion would still be among them.

Eventually a thought crossed his mind: _Why am I not dead yet?_

There was no reason for the rest of the plegian forces to not strike him down where he was this instance. To his astonishment, he lifted his head to spot a familiar sight in front of him.

Tharja, the girl who had once already saved his life, stood fast before him, not simply cursing those daring to enter her view, but also using her magic to shield his worthless existence from enemy attacks. The exhaustion caused by performing both offensive and defensive magic at the same time was written all over her. The woman's quivering body seemed ready to collapse.

"Tharja you can stop now!" Robin said, his voice still too weak to go far past the sounds of combat all around them.

Tharja didn't look back, but from the composed posture she was trying to fake, he knew his words had reached her.

"Get up." she replied.

"Tharja, i-it's okay! Please get yourself to safety!"

A low grunt was all he received as a response. Realizing she would soon crumble under this constant pressure, Robin pushed aside his desire to be swallowed whole by the sand he was in and rose back to his feet.

With a few quick motion and one soft incantation, a ball of lightning thrust from his hands and towards archers firing at them from the distance. A deafening explosion followed as the spell hit it's intended target. After assuring they had bought themselves a moment of respite, Robin grabbed Tharja's hand and pulled her with him towards a rock to seek cover behind.

"Are you okay?!' Robin asked, sweat dripping from his brow.

Tharja didn't respond and merely stared at the ground in front of herself. Seemingly all energy had been drained from her.

Robin needed to find Chrom, needed to tell everyone to retreat and retrieve Virion's body. At the final thought, he froze for a moment.

 _Virion would be alive if not for me. I did this. This is my fault._

Another glance toward Tharja confirmed her condition was not getting better. Her breathing was irregular and sweat was pouring out of her heaving body.

"Tharja I need to seek Chrom!" Robin said. "Are you able to move?"

Seemingly conjuring all the energy she could, she weakly shook her head. "Go."

"I am not leaving you."

Robin knelt next to her and gently moved her head to face him, in order to discern a way he could help her. Brushing her bangs away revealed her amethyst like eyes which appeared almost glazed over.

"How much magic did you tap into!?" the tactician asked infuriated by the thought of another putting themselves in harms way for him.

To his surprise, Tharja's eyes moved away from the ground to meet his own. In that moment, despite her alarming state, Robin swore he saw pure joy spark in her eyes for a moment.

"Please, you have to stay alive," Robin told her.

The slightest of nod was all he got back.

With that, Robin rose from the sand and without another look back, through which he feared they could find her, and ran off to look for Chrom. It broke his heart to leave a comrade in need, especially after just being saved by them, but the same voice inside his head calling him a waste of space was now assuring him that this victory was to be prioritized.

It was the right thing to do: Help Chrom kill the mad king. Bury a blade deep within his gut and watch his face as all life faded from it. In that man's name, hundreds were killed, some of them Robin's friends. He had destroyed Chrom and Lissa's family. The bastard forced Emmeryn's hand, made her sacrifice herself. Gangrel needed to die. Robin needed to be there.

This was the right thing to do. Winning the war.

Getting revenge.

* * *

 _He looked at me._

Tharja could barely feel a muscle in her body. No matter how much effort she put into it, her limbs wouldn't follow her commands. Life itself felt like it was draining from her body.

Yet none of that mattered. Because he looked at her. Robin looked into her eyes.

Yes, he had left, most likely abandoned her. That also was okay.

 _I am used to it. But... he looked at me._

Another attempt at a smile caused her excruciating pain. If her body would have allowed it, she may have even screamed in agony, like those that dared to hurt Robin had. She had killed at least four men and women who were trying to harm him as he remained helpless and unaware. It sickened her to think somebody would take advantage of him like that. Besides her of course.

 _I wonder if he'll cry over my body like that. I don't want him to be sad, but I want him to cry over me. I hate it._

Having become to heavy to be held upon her weak shoulders, her head tilted slightly to the side and pulled it's entire body with it. Landing uncomfortably on the ground, more pain jolted through her and caused her to flinch. Her breathing became slower and an unfamiliar chill filled her body.

 _No, not yet._

Tharja attempted to resist the pull of eternal slumber. Feeling her eye lids get heavier, she began squirming, hoping to cause herself more pain to stay awake. Robin had cared, he had shown genuine concern for her. Their eyes met for the first time. Death was coming for her to soon, she thought. All Tharja wanted was to hold onto that moment for a little bit longer before it took her.

It was not to be.

"Oh my god!"

Tharja could barely perceive the voice of a young girl arriving at her side. She couldn't lift her head to make out her face, but judging by the lavish dress it could only have been Lissa.

"I-I can't do this Robin, we need to get her back to camp," the young princess said.

Robin was here!? Tharja tried to move again, just enough to see him, but another wave of cramps shot through her.

"Hold still Tharja!"

That was his voice. He was here after all. "R-..."

She didn't manage to make another sound as agony and darkness consumed her.

* * *

Hours later, back at the Shepherds camp, in a tent a little ways off the main grounds, Chrom, Frederick and Robin were standing around a table. Frederick's stoic visage didn't allow for his thoughts or emotions to be read. Similarly Robin's remained inaccessible due to his head hanging low and hiding his face. Chrom was standing opposite to him, the only one of the three showing their mental exhaustion.

"Gangrel is dead," Chrom finally said. "We've accomplished what we set out to do. Plegia has admitted defeat and will most likely accept all our terms. This is a victory. A massive one at that."

"Then why does it feel so hollow?"

Robin's grip on the maps laid out before them tightened. He still couldn't bear to face his allies in front of him.

"Robin," Frederick began. "I understand you're displeasure with how things turned out during today's battle. With your memories lost, this was the first personal loss you must be experiencing."

"Frederick!" Chrom looked at him with disapproval in his eyes.

"Please, let me continue. Understand, Robin, Virion was a friend to us all. He was our comrade and brother in arms, and we all loved him for it."

Robin visibly flinched hearing Frederick's words, feeling like he had taken a cherished life away from them. He'd give his own if he could. He would march back onto that field and let himself get butchered a thousand times over to save Virion's life.

"None of us blame you or hold a grudge for what happened out there," Frederick said. "What he did was what any of us would do for one another. You would do the same, am I correct?"

Robin simply nodded, unable to speak without bursting into tears of self loathing.

"Then there is nothing left to discuss. If you wish to shed tears for our fallen comrade, do so and honor him in such a way."

Frederick's heavy steps moved towards the door.

"But do not disgrace his sacrifice by giving up on yourself."

With those last words, Frederick left Chrom and Robin alone in the tent.

* * *

It was pitch black when contentiousness returned to Tharja's body. Drowsiness held her thoughts hostage as she wrestled to open her eyes. Arms and legs felt as if filled with lead, while the throbbing in her head only grew in intensity. Despite this, the fact that she was still alive bewildered her the most. She was certain of her own passing. All of her life forces were sapped as she defended Robin with all her might. Dark magic was nothing to take lightly, as she knew too well, but for her destined one, she had taken the risk.

"Tharja? Are you awake?" a timid voice asked.

Quiet steps approached her, followed by a wet cloth being applied to her forehead. The moisture on her skin caused instant relieve, as if her skin had been fully dried out.

Tharja's care taker left the cloth at it's place while lifting up her arms. "There is still no color on your body though..."

Tharja recognized Nowi's voice now. She seemed more amazed and surprised than anything else at the moment, but hearing her voice felt good all the same. Her own voice, however, seemed to be lost in a void. No sound would leave her lips, regardless of her struggles.

"Please relax!" Nowi said. "I'll get Lissa and Libra, they'll be able to help more than me."

And with that, she took off, her footsteps disappearing out of the tent and into the night. Left to her own devices, Tharja let her mind travel back in time to where Robin was by her side. Where was he now? If so much as a hair on his head had been touched, she would find the one responsible and destroy them. The plegian girl couldn't help but be somewhat saddened by the fact he wasn't here instead of Nowi to wait for her awakening.

 _He must be busy. He doesn't have time for me right now. I understand, my love._

She instantly cursed herself for using that word. Love. It was horrible. She was so understanding and kind towards someone else. She was ready to die for him. What sort of sick joke was being played here?

 _Could he love me? No. Stop thinking like that. You could hex him out of your heart! Why are you letting this happen to yourself? A love drunk puppy. Disgusting._

She let out a frustrated sigh, the first and last sound she made that day.

* * *

"Chrom! Robin! Tharja is awake!"

Nowi stormed into the tent they were using for their strategic meeting, her excitement uncontained. Robin immediately took off towards her and stopped her halfway.

"Are you certain? How is she doing?" he asked, his brows curling.

Nowi pouted and lightly poked him. "Why don't you just go check on her?"

"Of course, you are right." Robin said, and rushed by her to leave towards Tharja's tent.

This was his responsibility. Tharja almost became the second person to fall due to his mistakes that battle. If there was any way he could aid her, he would.

He reached the tent where she was kept and barged in without announcing himself. Lissa and Libra were standing over Tharja's motionless body, busying themselves by chanting healing words. Wishing to not disturb them, Robin quietly navigated past them and to the other side of the bed Tharja was laying on. He was petrified once he got a good look at Tharja's state. Deathly pale like a corpse, she was barely breathing and her expression was that of a person in constant anguish. Writhing in pain, she tossed herself back and forth, constantly at the verge of falling at any moment.

Robin's self contempt managed to sneak back in, telling him that this was the price for his failure. Endless torment for those that try to help him, for those that care for him. He wanted to repay her somehow. Help her right here and now. Knowing he was useless to her or anyone planted a seed of doubt in his heart. The kind of doubt nothing could shake.

 _One day, I will get everyone killed. I can't do this._

"Tharja... I am sorry," he whispered to himself, escaping the tent that was threatening to swallow him.

* * *

 _No! Come back!_

There would be no curse strong enough to punish Lissa and Libra for their inability to let Tharja talk to Robin. He was right here! His sorrow so clear to her, he was being completely overlooked by the two healers beside her bed. Hatred for the world is all she managed to conjure up for the time.

"Don't fret Tharja," Libra spoke. "I think if Lissa and I keep at this, you might be up within the week."

 _That is just great. A week. The hell am I supposed to do until then. I am right here!_

And so she laid there for almost a week. Constant pain, slowly passing over time. Nothing but the thoughts of Robin and her desire to be with him, calm him and ease his worries. He'd often visit her when all others were gone. The man wouldn't speak a lot, but the words he did share were those of sorrow and guilt.

"I am so sorry this happened. Why would you do such a thing? Why would anyone do something like this for me. It's my job to send you all into a world of fear and bloodshed. Every last one of you should despise me, and yet you risk your life instead. I just don't understand."

Tharja had to admit that her love wasn't the brightest if he didn't realize the meaning behind her actions, but that didn't concern her much. The way he spoke of himself, the way he belittle his brilliant mind, it made her sick. She wanted to slap him and then pull him close to chest, never to let go.

"Maybe it would be best for me to leave," Robin said during one of his late night visits.

Tharja screamed internally, tormented by the fact she was unable to talk back to him. If he were to ever leave her, it was doubtful her heart and mind could survive it.

"Chrom and everyone else relies on me. You relied on me."

He took a deep breath after his voice cracked, evidently choking on tears that he felt he had no right to shed. "Tharja, please wake up. I have no right to ask you of anything, especially something so selfish. But if you don't wake up, if we are to lose you, I don't think I can live with myself after that. You did this because of me. I almost killed you."

Unable to bear it anymore, Tharja screamed again and again. Her mind in shambles at the thought of her beloved feeling like this and sharing these doubts with her, solely due to his understanding that she couldn't hear him.

With one last mental push, to her own surprise, she shot up in her bed and grabbed Robin's arm.

"This won't do."


	3. Reborn

_This one took longer than the previous two because I am not satisfied with my writing skills. I kept changing, erasing or adding things here and there in the hopes of making it sound nicer. I decided that I wanted to release this as it was now and simply try to improve over time, rather than hold onto one chapter for weeks._

* * *

The sun had just begun setting behind the hills as Robin entered his tent. A gust of cold air followed him inside, causing his body to shiver. Fatigue was wearing him down and he only just managed to reach his bed before collapsing. A couple of deep breaths later he felt strong enough to at least sit up. There was no way he could sleep tonight. This day had been full of complications around every turn.

He turned to the side and recalled her tearful face.

* * *

Startled by her sudden movement, Robin jerked back a bit, only to be stopped by Tharja's grip on his arm. Despite the woman's somewhat frail appearance, the strength she was exhibiting seemed otherworldly

"This won't do," she said, her eyes fixed on his own. The almost unnaturally straight angle she was sitting at, alongside the expressionless face she was speaking with made her seem possessed. "I will not have to speak this way about yourself any longer."

Still struggling to break free, Robin simply stared at her in disbelief. Had Tharja heard everything he had told her tonight? How could that be the reason for her miraculous recovery? Lissa and Libra were certain in her current condition waking up, much less speaking, was still days away.

Dark magic, unlike the elemental kind Robin and most other practitioners were handling, exhausted one's life force instead of earth's resources. Usually this was balanced out by the devastation the dark arts left behind. It required very little effort to destroy a single foe with a well controlled spell. Some, like the Nosferatu spell, even allowed the caster to absorbed the essence of another in order to maintain their well being. Regardless of spell used, eventually the body, mind and soul would recover from the self inflicted wounds, or so it was at least explained to Robin. However, at the rate at which Tharja was casting and draining her own life at the border wastes, for his sake, her body had almost nothing left to restore. She was hanging on by a thread that day, and Robin had simply left her. Another mistake he'll never forgive himself for.

It was true, he had ultimately decided against joining Chrom in the final push against the mad king, and instead opted to find Lissa to aid Tharja, but that still didn't excuse ever leaving her side in the first place. He had failed her and yet somehow she awoke from this state to voice her displeasure of his doubts? Unbelievable.

"Tharja, please, relax!" Robin said, still wriggling his arm out of her grasp. "Your body is still weak, you need to rest!"

"I have slept long enough."

Just as stilted as before, Tharja rose from her bed onto her quivering legs. Fearing she would fall and injure herself, Robin stood as well and held onto her.

"I don't think this is such a good idea..."

Once again Tharja gazed at him. Something about her beautiful violet eyes hinted at a deep sadness that he could not possible understand. Robin gasped in surprise as Tharja's hand lightly touched his cheek. The last thing he had expected was intimate physical contact. To his shock she began caressing his face as if such a thing was common between them. Robin, while certainly not against the idea of a beautiful woman giving him loving attention, felt unnerved by how inappropriate this felt. Was she dreaming?

Robin pulled away, leaving her pale, soft hand linger mid air. Tharja slowly closed her hand into a fist and let her arms fall limp.

"Why do you push me away?" she asked.

With a small whimper she wrapped her arms around herself, as if she was trying to shield her body from a blow. "Nothing would remain if you left."

Robin's face fell as he became certain that she had heard every word he had spoke to himself in the confines of this tent. Tharja was aware of every nagging doubt and gloomy thought in his mind.

"You heard it all?"

Tharja simply nodded. "Every last word..."

"I am sorry. I didn't mean to burden you with any of it," Robin said. "I just needed to get it off of my chest and I thought-"

"You thought there was no harm in confining in me as long as it didn't actual count," Tharja finished for him. "You'd have never opened up to me otherwise."

Robin began to formulate a counter argument, but quickly decided against it, because Tharja was right. He was not the type of person to share his inner demons with another. He had assumed it wouldn't stick with her and did it in the hopes of getting the weight off his failures from his shoulders.

"I am sorry." he said.

And for the third time that night, Tharja's actions took him off guard. Without another word she lowered herself back onto her bed, once again hiding her eyes behind her bangs, and began gently weeping. Tears clearly visible on her cheeks began falling onto her lap.

Robin felt sick as he watched the sorrow his actions lead to. Somehow he had managed to cause the woman who risked her life for his to cry openly in front of him. He failed to see a way to further fuel his self hatred.

Among the soft sounds of her crying, a sinister, downright threatening voice addressed him once more. "Leave."

Seeing no point in arguing a point he didn't have, Robin quickly left the tent, having found himself to be even more revolting than he had previously assumed.

* * *

The next morning arrived slower than Robin had desired. Wishing to avoid the company of others, he quietly snuck out of his tent and into the forest, toward the camps borders. Once he had reached the very edge he sat down on the dew covered grass and let the cold morning air fully waken him. Out of his coat he produced a tome he had brought along for practice purposes, although he doubted it would see much use at this hour. After the happenings of last evening, he doubt he'd ever want to read about another spell again. Perhaps he would inquire if Frederick would be keen to instruct him in more advanced sword fighting techniques, seeing how Robin's own were falling behind. The tactician was more than capable of swinging a sword and let gravity do most of the work for him, but he was positive that would only allow him to get so far.

Despite Robin's best efforts to graciously enjoy nature's beauty and keep his spirits high, the sight of Tharja's tear stained face haunted him. They had only become allies recently, yet despite that she had made the ultimate sacrifice for him. Without such able healers at their side, she wouldn't have lived to see the next morning. Still Robin found a way to crush her spirit and have her break out into tears instead of showing his gratitude. Smooth.

Wishing to distract himself from the subject of how low he could sink, Robin tried to recall the last time they had received word from the castle. Due to the injuries sustained during their final confrontation with Gangrel, there was little chance the Shepherds could journey back home without risking further casualties. Many among their ranks had offered to stay behind with the wounded and allow prince Chrom to return to his people, but as Robin had expected, his friend naturally declined the offer and refused to leave anyone behind.

Instead they had sent a small group of messengers ahead, to give word of the victory they had achieved and that their rightful ruler would soon return to lead them into a peaceful age. And while it was clear to Robin how arduous the trip could be, even for the Pegasus riders they had entrusted with the mission, he was anxious to hear back as soon as possible. The tactician couldn't rest until he was certain that all of Ylisse shared the peace they had fought so hard for.

"What do we have here?"

Startled Robin turned over towards the strangely familiar voice. To his horror, merely a few inches away from him stood Aversa, the mad kings previous second in command. Unlike their previous encounters, during which Aversa had always appeared composed, in control and even somewhat alluring, the evil witch now looked downright psychotic. The black cloak she always wore was torn in a few places, her collar of feathers was now lacking any plumes and her previously beautiful, untouched visage was covered in small wounds.

Aversa's eyes, filled to the brim with madness and fury, seemed to burn through him. Robin made an attempt to get to his feet as quick as possible, but Aversa rushed him, kicking the tactician back down onto the ground. Laying opened in her palm was a dark tome, one Robin didn't recognize. Fearing the worst he quickly took his own tome and, knowing he had not the time to cast any spells, threw it at her face. The moment she deflected it with grunt, the boy shot up and moved behind a tree to create distance between them.

"Playing games I see!" Aversa's demented voice echoed through the trees.

When Robin peeked out of his hiding spot, she was no longer where he had left her.

"Looking for me?"

Robin whirled around only to be greeted by her face so close to his that he could feel her hot breath on his skin. Despite his quick reaction, Robin's endeavors to move past her were ended by her arm pinning him to the tree. Never before had they engaged in physical combat with her, thus her unbelievable strength took him off guard and knocked the air out of him.

"You've made quite the mess for me back at home, you know," she said, a fake sweetness to every word she spewed out. "It would only be fair for you to make up for that, don't you agree?"

Regaining some of his own strength, Robin tried to push her away, but it was futile.

"I am not done talking yet my dear!" she hissed. With her free hand she grabbed his chin and pulled it up to hers. Robin never noticed how much taller than him she was.

"Unhand me!" he said in the most courageous sounding voice he could muster. "I do not fear you, vile fiend! Leave before the rest of the She-"

Searing pain cut his sentence short. Looking down, Aversa retrieved a dagger from his stomach, Robin's freshly spilled blood dripping from it's blade.

"Let them come," Aversa replied, nothing but contempt left in her voice. "By then it'll be too late"

The support of her arm taken from him, Robin hit the ground hard. He needed to call for help. There was no way he could die here. Too many people had given their all to save his worthless life. Chrom still needed him to drive the remaining forces from Ylisse. Robin still had to repay Chrom, Lissa and Emmeryn for entrusting their kingdom's future to him.

Another instance of agony swept over him as Aversa drove the heel of her boot into his back. "This is the pathetic worm who Ylisse's prince thinks so highly off? It was your strategy that won the war, wasn't it?"

A pathetic gurgling came from Robin's mouth as she twisted her heel around.

"You are scum! If it wasn't for him, I would end your miserable life this instance."

Unable to fight back the urge to rest, Robin's eyelids fell shut against his will.

* * *

 _You've given up?_

Darkness surrounded him. Or perhaps his eyes had ceased to function.

 _You are still so weak. I am disappointed._

A painful throbbing began to flare up on the back of his hand.

 _Am I too believe you are truly the one?_

The voice wouldn't stop and the pain became increasingly unbearable.

 _It will not end here. I still have plans for you._

Blinding light cut through the dark. The pain it caused him was beyond anything he had ever experienced.

 _Awake now!_

* * *

Robin awoke feeling as if he was being drowned. He threw himself onto his side and began retching, in the hopes of freeing himself from whatever had been forced down his throat. Surprisingly, nothing left his body. Breathing soon began feeling natural again as he perceived other parts of his body reacquainting themselves with their functions. His eyes in particular were threatening to burn through his skull. Robin didn't dare exposing them to any potential sources of light and chose to remain blind for a little longer.

After feeling his body had regained enough of it's former strength, Robin pushed himself up, ignoring the biting pain in each of his limbs. Once he was sitting up, he cautiously opened his eyes just enough to risk a peek. He was once again in his tent. A few candles had been lit and placed on the table next to his bed. A cup of water had been left on his desk, next to the tome he had carried with himself this morning. Outside of his tent he could hear voices talking to each other in a heated tone.

A sudden pain overcame him as he tried to steal a glance outside. Remembering why, he lifted the shirt he had been left in to spot a thick layer of bandages placed over the spot he had been stabbed at. Blood was pooling beneath the bandages, bathing the once white cloth in crimson colors.

Vivid images of his encounter with Aversa filled his mind, as he replayed the moment at which she had thrust a dagger into his body. The vision of it caused a kind of phantom pained that left him breathless for a moment. It was as if he could still feel the cold steel lodged in between his skin. Robin's body began shaking as it remembered the sensation of what it was like to die.

Then it hit him: He had died. There was no other explanation. The wound he had received was deep and it wasn't helped any further by how Aversa had stomped on him afterward. Robin had felt the life drain from him and the cold certainty of death leading him to his endless slumber. He had seen images of his life, or at least the short amount of time he could remember, flash before him. An unnatural chill caused goosebumps to appear across his entire body.

He had been too far from the camp, too far from healers. No one besides him had any reason to be awake at such an early hour, so no one should have had the time to come to his aid. The earliest to arrive at the spot had been at would have been Frederick, about an hour or two after the fact. So why then was he alive?

Before he had the chance to construct a theory, Chrom walked into the tent. The prince seemed out of breath, his forehead soaking in sweat.

"By the gods! We thought you were dead!" Chrom said, rushing to Robin's side. The prince lowered himself onto his knees and examined his tacticians face as if to ensure it was the real one. Chrom's reaction only lent further credence to Robin's theory, no matter how outlandish it may have been.

"I thought so too," Robin replied, a bit flustered by his friend's stare.

Chrom, satisfied with his examination for the time being, stood back up and handed Robin the glass of water that had been prepared for him. "You should probably have some of this."

Robin thanked him and eagerly gulped down the liquid. Once he had emptied the glass, Chrom placed it back onto the desk.

"I have a whole new appreciation for water," Robin joked, allowing himself a small laugh despite their dire situation. It seemed to ease Chrom's tension as well, if the smile he was showing was anything to go by.

Chrom eventually collected his thoughts and explain to Robin that he had been found around midday by Sully as she was collecting wood for a bonfire. However, by the time she discovered him, Robin no longer showed any signs of life, as he had expected. Sully returned to Chrom as fast her feet would carry her, trying to arouse as little suspicion as possible. The knight had feared panic and doubts would spread among their ranks if they were to discover their tactician had apparently been murdered.

Robin likewise told him of his encounter with Aversa, her uncharacteristic behavior, and of the final words she left him with.

"So she is working with somebody?" Chrom asked aloud, receiving a mere nod from Robin.

"It would appear so."

"Then there are others besides Gangrel who would wish to do us harm," Chrom softly said. Robin seemed to have lost him to his own thoughts.

"That should not surprise you. After all, you are to be king of Ylisse now," the tactician reminded him.

Chrom snapped out of his trance like state and looked back at his friend. "Of course, but that is not what happened here. They didn't come after me or Lissa. They went for you. You are like a brother to me, as well as a invaluable asset to our army, but you are not royalty."

Robin was touched by Chrom's view of him, even if he completely disagreed with him due to his many recent failures.

"If they wanted to end my reign before it even began, then this was a massive blunder on their part," Chrom concluded. "They have given themselves away and ensured such an incident will never be repeated."

"Sound logic," Robin replied. "Though one has to wonder if you could call it a blunder considering my, uhm, condition."

"True. And your miraculous recovery is not one that the Shepherds can take credit for either. So it must have been them. Damn it!"

Chrom slammed his fist onto the desk in frustration, knocking the glass off and causing it to shatter into a million pieces. "I should have been there to defend you! I should have taken that blade in your stead!"

Robin flinched, as if his friend's words had caused him physical harm. Chrom was quick to notice his mistake and his temper faded.

"I apologize Robin. That was poorly worded by me."

"No, it's alright," Robin assured. "After all, it was my fault for being out there on my own anyway. None of you could have seen it coming."

"Say, what were you doing out there anyway?"

Once more, Robin felt a little sting in his chest. Despite their closeness, Robin had no intention of sharing with Chrom his horrible emotional betrayal which had caused Tharja such distress. A burning desire to ask about her well being rose within him, but he thought that would only lead to further questions. Questions he honestly had no answers to. Why did Tharja care so much about his well being? For what reason would she throw her own life away for Robin's? Why did it pain him so much to see her cry? Obviously a bond of friendship connected the two, as it did with all of the Shepherds. Yet somehow it felt different between the two, but in a way Robin couldn't explain. Perhaps those kind of answers came with age and experience, but considering his memories only reached back a few weeks he felt like all his book knowledge was worthless to him for once.

A quick lie about simply wishing to experience the tranquil beauty of a quiet morning with mother nature satisfied Chrom, who quickly left the tent with a promise of a hot meal. Once out of sight however, Robin sunk back into his bed with the hopes that Chrom's return would be delayed indefinitely. He required lots of rest and time to consider his next move. It would appear that Tharja, like most of the camp, had remained oblivious to Robin's run in with death and he would like for it to remain that way.

But it didn't.

* * *

 _While writing this I noticed an issue that I need to address in further chapters: I know where I want to go with the story, I have an end game planned and Aversa's appearance plays a big part in that. But the transition from one big event to the next could be a lot smoother. I know most writing classes tell you to not fill your story with too much padding, but without any of it at all we'll never get a break to relax and just spend time with the characters. Either way I'd love any feedback and criticism that will help me improve, so please let me know what you think!_


	4. Visions

Robin began working every day to reclaim the strength that dying had apparently sapped from him. He would offer his help across the camp, no matter how small or important the task may have been and applied himself wherever possible. Chrom soon joined him, wishing to aid his friend with his recovery and also feeling slightly competitive to see who could do more good for the Shepherd's. It was an uneventful week and soon enough the convoy went back on the road, most of their wounded having completely recovered and the rest able to be transported. Robin and Chrom would lead, discussing the fastest route back to the capital, while also avoiding any possible hot spots that would lead to needless fighting. Both of them knew eventually they would have to crush any remaining resistances, but returning their allies to the safety of their homes came first.

With no real issues Robin could take care of, as well as the lack of combat during their peaceful journey, the tactician began feeling weak. The thought that he would be unable to fight if they were ambushed weighted heavily on him.

* * *

Robin started the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed. The constant aching of his body had subsided, leaving only a determined mind. The tactician had decided it was vital he would address his physical condition, as well as his inconsiderate behavior towards Tharja to her and apologize for the misery she had to deal with as a result of his tactlessness. The two hadn't spoken a word since that dreadful night. That didn't mean that they hadn't interacted with one another, however indirectly it may have been. It was honestly strange, but Robin knew Tharja had begun following him ever since the day he had been reborn. It was almost as if he had gained heightened sense, as he could hear her every step behind him and feel her eyes fixed upon his back. More disturbing than her behavior perhaps was the fact that it didn't bother Robin. The tactician was merely content knowing she hadn't given up on their friendship after what he had done. She must have wanted to call him out on it, perhaps set things straight, but her apparent timid nature made it impossible for her to make a move. Chrom had told Robin that while he had been out Tharja's recovery that night hadn't been a fluke of some kind. She quickly regained her full strength and would not listen to the advice of their healers to remain in bed for another day or two. Chrom had also indicated that keeping Robin's condition from her was almost impossible, as she had questioned the prince personally about the tacticians absence, and Chrom had found it tough to lie to her. It wasn't because he feared her, Chrom vehemently assured Robin.

Robin began the day by indulging in a hearty breakfast joined by Ricken and Miriel. Even though he did more listening than talking himself, Robin enjoyed having a meaningless conversation for once in his life. They spoke of animals Ricken had studied during the time the Shepherds had spent stuck in this place, Miriel's progress as a student of elemental magic and the adequate meals that had been served that day. As Chrom had implied, neither of them had a clue about Robin's temporary demise, something the young man was grateful for.

After breakfast, Robin joined Frederick during his morning practice. Despite the knights protest, as he was aware of what had occurred only recently, and insisting Robin wasn't ready yet, the tactician ultimately swayed him by expressing concern for his own safety. After all, if Robin had been under Frederick's instructions all along, his chances of survival would have risen exponentially. Knowing full well that Robin's flattery was simply a means to an end, Frederick obliged with a heavy sigh. The two spent a little over an hour sparring, during which it became painfully obvious to Robin that he was slower and weaker than before. How was he supposed to fight along side the Shepherds if he was unable to hold his own?

After another half an hour Frederick, much to Robin's scorn, decided it was time for a break, as he felt any more would only further exhaust Robin and worsen his swordplay. Despite this Robin continued to practice his form by himself, using one of the practice dummies that had been put up. To his own embarrassment most maneuvers outside of a simple swing had him gasping for air. Unable to quit, feeling ashamed of himself, Robin endured the feeling of every last one of his muscles burning. As he sprinted to the side, imagine himself quickly bypassing an enemies defense, intending to dive towards the dummy, Robin lost his balance and crashed onto the ground. The shock caused him to freeze for a moment as if he was unable to fathom what had just happened. Frustration rose within and he tossed his practice sword as far as he was able. Deciding to remain seated on the ground, Robin stared at the tiny blisters that had formed on his hands. While his more rational mind explained his momentary death had to have effected his abilities, part of him wondered if he hadn't always been this lousy excuse of a fighter and the Shepherds lacked the heart to be honest with him about it.

Robin was moments away from throwing in the towel when the sound of soft steps approaching him drew his attention. Looking over his shoulders, he spotted Tharja walking toward him, a plum colored tome clutched to her chest. Unable to accurately read her expression, all he could gather from her patented scowl was that she didn't enjoy being out in the open like this.

"Get up," she said once she had reached him. Shielding herself from the sun with one hand, her eyes were resting on him. The intense stare he had come to expect from her strangely enough failed to bother him today.

Robin smiled sourly while pushing himself to his feet. "If you are here to spar I think you'd find more worthy opponents than me by hunting a rabbit or two."

Tharja didn't react to his sad attempt at humor and instead opened the tome she had been holding onto. Robin groaned a bit at the realization that he wouldn't be going anywhere. If she wished to throw him around like a doll with her magic that was the least he could do for her.

"Alright then, but I ain't going easy on you," he chuckled, well aware he had no chance to beat her in his pitiful state.

Without warning, Tharja raised her hand and Robin could spot orbs of black energy converging at her fingertips. Taken off guard by her sudden offensive actions, Robin dove for the practice sword he had discarded earlier. Before his hand could reach it however, a pitch black mass of energy hit the ground in front of him. The explosion that followed upon impact flung Robin back onto his behind, unharmed but astonished by Tharja's display. Looking back at her, he witnessed her conjuring her next spell, but this time he was swift enough to grab his own weapon. Dodging past another dark orb, he sprinted towards her. A third spell was flung in his directions which he instinctively swatted away with his sword. To his surprise, this actually worked out in his favor and didn't simply blow up in his face. Taking another step toward her, now only inches away, Robin swung his sword as quickly as he could, but Tharja simply side stepped it and raised her hand up to his chest. Preparing for the impact Robin shut his eyes and felt every muscle in his body tense up. Curiously, the attack never came.

Opening his eyes again he found that Tharja had remained still, her hand pressed against his chest and her expression still as stoic and indecipherable as before. It appeared as if part of her wanted to strike, desperately needing to glean payback for his previous offenses. Yet the other half refused her spiteful urges and wouldn't stand to see her harm Robin. Eventually she let her head sink and her hand trailed down his chest, having a difficult time separating itself from Robin. The strategist on his end simply watched her, intrigued by her inner conflict. He dared not to speak in case it would ruin this odd yet captivating moment they were sharing.

It was Tharja who eventually raised her voice, just enough for him to perceive her message. "I wish I could hate you."

Those were not the words he had hoped to hear. If she felt hatred towards him, it was somewhat justified in his eyes. Robin had abandoned her when she was dying for him and then crushed her feelings once she recovered from her injuries. Laying the facts out like that Robin was hard pressed not to encourage her to fire that spell off after all.

"I wish I could hate you and punish you for the things you make me feel." Tharja continued in a stoic tone, her eyes reflecting his own. "I considered hexing and cursing you in a dozen different ways, turning your life into living hell and forcing you to beg me for mercy. But each time I did, every time I thought of a way I could inflict suffering onto you, I began hating myself instead. Insurmountable disgust filled me up every time I figured out a way to punish you for making me cry like a helpless damsel. The mere thought of harming you, touching a single hair on your head, it sickened me."

Tharja took a step forward, their feet touching now and allowing Robin to breathe in her scent. It was a strange smell that he couldn't honestly describe as sweet, but alluring nonetheless. Something about this strange situation he had found himself in made him feel eat ease and the thought of walking away never once crossed his mind. It troubled him somewhat to hear that Tharja had thought of ways to enact her revenge on him, but once again he felt it was deserved and he considered himself lucky that she never went through with it. He was dumbfounded by her reasoning as to why however.

"You shouldn't blame yourself for that," Robin said, genuinely believing that. "I shouldn't have used you as a way to rid myself of my own burdens simply because it was convenient for myself. It was a selfish act."

Tharja bit down on her lower lip, her eyes wandering. Robin wasn't certain if this was a sign of frustration or apprehension.

"That is not the problem," she eventually replied. "Quite the opposite. You should rely on me. I want you to tell me everything that bothers you, so that you can unwind and put an end to the foolish idea that you are somehow not worthy of everyone's praise and trust."

Apparently bursting with confidence all of a sudden, Tharja reached out and held his hands in her own, causing Robin to gasp in surprise. Once again the way she quickly initiated intimidate contact without warning left him startled.

"Still, even though you are just as good and invaluable as everyone says, I can't help but hate them for coming to you with all of their problems. Every time one of them talks to you or even so much as looks at you I can feel hatred crawling under my skin. And Chrom, constantly sending you into deadly skirmishes, working you day and night because he is incapable of forming his own plans, I despise him."

Robin's brow furrowed as he let Tharja's emotions sink in. For reasons he couldn't explain it was of utmost importance to him that he understood everything that was going through her head. Even if the things she said caused some concern within him, under no circumstances would he interrupt her. It was as if he was in a trance.

"I hate the way looking at you makes me feel," Tharja continued, the strength of her voice wavering slightly the more she spoke. "I hate how vulnerable it makes me to just think of you. I well nigh brought about my own death because the thought of your life coming to an end makes my blood boil and my heart ache. Before I first laid eyes on you nothing but my own life and personal gain mattered, and I was doing fine. You ruined everything."

"Tharja, I-"

As if to protest the words about to leave his mouth, Tharja leaned forward and pushed her lips on his. Robin's eyes widened in shock as he felt her soft skin brush against his own. With her daring personality coming to the surface, she moved her hands up his arms and placed them gently on his face as she deepened the kiss. They remained like this for a while until Tharja finally found the strength to pull away from him. Wearing a sultry smile the mage took a step back from Robin, confident that her kiss had stolen his heart. With the little experience she had concerning love and showing affection she had to resort to more direct methods. Irritatingly however, Robin's expression appeared more perplexed than enraptured. The tactician brought his fingers up to his lips and brushed across them once, as if to verify that their kiss had actually happened. His gaze then slowly wandered over to Tharja, who in the meantime had returned to a timid and defensive stance.

"I didn't expect that," a flustered Robin said. "What you say and what you do doesn't quiet line up."

Tharja slowly shook her head, pressing her tome further into her chest to the point where it began hurting. "No. My words and my actions mean one and the same, believe me. I... Do I have to spell it out for you? ...My love?"

The young woman gazed longingly into Robin's eyes with those last words, her heart racing with anticipation. Tharja had lost control of her affection and thereby the whole situation. Revealing her conflicting emotions to Robin hadn't been part of the plan. All she wanted to achieve was to make him feel better about himself and spend time by his side. At some point Tharja had in some way convinced herself she needed to kiss him to further this goal. After all, who wouldn't feel better after their soul mate kissed them?

Feeling immediate revulsion towards her own lust for his love caused her to panic. What was she doing? Why would she put on such a pathetic display for another person? Why hadn't she hexed him out of her heart yet? She was so much smarter than this! And why, gods why, wouldn't he just return her love for him already?

"My love?" Robin repeated, his cheeks flushing with color. Despite her continuing efforts to aid him, Robin had assumed Tharja simply cared, like the rest of the Shepherd's and had been merely too shy and introverted to let everyone know she wanted to be one of them. Love had not been on his mind. Looking back at everything that had transpired however, Robin wanted to beat himself for being so naive. "Tharja, I like you. You are a great, dependable ally and after everything you've done for me, I value you as a close friend. However, there are so many things I don't know about you yet."

Tharja's heart sank. Her nails began digging into the leather binding of her tome, threatening to break both of them. Once again her teeth commenced an assault on her lower lip, which was now close to bursting open. "S-So. You don't love me..."

"I can't." Robin responded, his heart feeling heavy as well. Breaking Tharja's heart was the last thing he wanted to do, especially after having already hurt her previously. "Chrom needs me to lead this army till the very end Tharja. All of Ylisse is relying on me to fight off the remaining resistances and bring peace back to their lands. Imagine if just for a second, I let my heart make tactical decisions for me."

"I won't be on the battle field then!" Tharja's response erupted out of her. "I'll be by your side. We don't have to get near the fight with our magic. I despise seeing you out there as it is. If something were to happen to you..."

Robin took a couple of steps into the training field. All at once new and complicated issues had been thrown into his life. Tharja was a invaluable asset in their struggles. The plegian bore magical capabilities unrivaled by anybody else among the Shepherd's. She was needed on the battlefield. Yet, with this knowledge of her feelings, Robin felt it was impossible to send her out again. If he were to ask, she'd do it as a moments notice. Therefor her death, more than anybody else's was on him. Plus he was shocked when he noticed that her confession had brought joy and warmth to his heart. Despite the fact that he stood with what he had said earlier and that he felt it was impossible for him to be in love with how little he actually knew about her, Robin would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he cared for her more than any other Shepherd. Knowing that she loved him made him happy, which he considered unbelievably selfish.

"Tharja," Robin began, his eyes staring into space. "I am not sure that you ca-"

A sudden, sharp pain filled every one of his extremities. Choking on air, Robin fell onto his knees desperately grasping his chest.

"Robin!"

Tharja appeared by his side, panicking at the sight of her love convulsing in agony. Afraid to touch him, uncertain of how it would affect Robin, she was helpless as he fell on his side, gasping for air. Tharja knew she needed to call for help, her magic was only good at destroying lives, not saving them.

"Robin, I am going to get help! Don't you dare die on me!"

As fast as she could she hopped onto her feet and raced across the training field into the main camp side, leaving Robin with the visions in his mind.

* * *

Chrom fell to the ground. His eyes were empty, their life taken by the one the prince had trusted most. Staring down at his own hands, Robin could see the final sparks of the spell he had conjured to eliminate Chrom. It had come so natural to him. Out of the corner of his vision he spotted Marth, the girl with the second Falchion, rushing towards Chrom's body, screaming words that did not reach Robin's ear. Everything around him sounded as if he had been pushed underwater.

Deciding to ignore the young woman shaking Chrom's body with tears rolling down her face, Robin turned his attention towards a large group of warriors, every last one of them staring at him in horror and disbelief. Starting towards them, he encountered resistance from the people he recognized as Miriel and Lon'qu. The two worked side by side, in almost rhythmic motions, attempting to stop his advance. Regardless Robin merely had to lift his right hand and chant a spell in a language long forgotten and the woman known as Miriel was flung against a pillar, her bones cracking as they broke one by one. Before her lifeless body had the chance to hit the floor, Lon'qu let out a bone chilling scream as he rushed Robin again and again, his blade always missing by mere inches. To his surprise, their former ally could spot tears of anger and frustration forming on the blade masters face. Feeling sympathy for his friend, Robin swiftly produced another magical bolt in his hand and drove it between Lon'qu's ribs. Taken by surprise, the usually stoic man fell dead before his next breath.

In this manner Robin continued to work his way through his past allies, even some he couldn't recognize, before eventually coming face to face with a girl wearing clothes similar to his. The girl was younger than most among their group, with her face having a child like innocence to it and the hair on her head appearing messy and neglected. A wind tome was laying open in her shaking hands, it's pages being soaked by the tears falling from her chin. Her lips parted as she spoke something Robin couldn't quite pick up.

Raising his hand once more, deciding this was no place for one as young as her and promising himself to make her death the swiftest and most pain free, another young woman pushed herself in front of the first. Only slightly older, the archer clad in green did not raise her bow, but instead shielded the younger girl. Robin found that there was some sadness to this scene, but it didn't faze him.

Deciding he had wasted enough time, he conjured another spell in his hand and fired it off. To his surprise, it erupted before hitting it's mark and pushed Robin back a bit. Checking for the cause of the interruption, he spotted a familiar face a few feet away.

Tharja, a bit older than he remembered her, was on the verge of toppling over from a wound to her abdomen. Still, the opened tome in her hand convinced him that the premature explosion was her doing. Noticing his stare resting on her, a unnaturally grim smile crossed her lips. It was as if she was urging him on to kill her. Happy to oblige he walked towards her, each step he took feeling incredibly heavy. Standing in front of her, he produced a levin sword from beneath his coat and put it to her throat, feeling a strange desire to have her death be more intimate than anyone else's.

Tharja raised her head and gazed into his eyes. Even at this very moment, with her life so close to it's end, he could feel her deep, unwavering love for Robin radiating from her person. Once again, a few last words were spoken. However this time, Robin could make them out. "I am sorry I couldn't protect you from this, my love. Please... spare them."

Unable to grasp the message's meaning, Robin moved the edge of his blade along her neck, killing her. Feeling no pleasure or satisfaction from any of the blood he was shedding, he felt it was necessary to end this quickly. His attention turned back to the two girls who appeared to be devastated and had began crying in the middle of the hall. With his sword in hand he slowly marched towards them.

* * *

"No!"

A desperate shout woke Robin from his horrid nightmare. Realizing that it was his own voice which had produced the sound, the tactician was surprised to find himself surrounded by Tharja, Lissa and Chrom who were all looking at him with great concern.

"Are you alright?" Tharja asked, her composed and dreary voice replaced by an unusually soft one. "You were writhing and screaming. What happened?"

Robin wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he tried to recollect what he had seen in his dream. Only bits and pieces remained however. The one sticking out the most was his killing of Chrom. It felt real. He could feel the sparks of magic itch his hand even now.

"I had a horrible nightmare," Robin eventually explained. "I'd call it a vision, but the idea of those events coming to pass is terrifying. There was so much death. I can't remember anything in particular, just that people lost their lives. At my hands."

Chrom shook his head avidly. "What do you mean by that?"

"I killed our Shepherd's Chrom. I killed you." Robin said softly, still rattled by the realism of it all.

"Then it was merely a dream, my friend."

Chrom reached out and grabbed Robin's hand, helping him to his feet. "You would never harm one of our own. I know this to be a fact."

Tharja nodded meekly, hating having to agree with Chrom. She wrapped her arm around Robin's and supported him as the three brought him back towards the camp. To Robin's dismay, the sun had sunk behind the mountains, indicating he had been out for quite some time.

"Will this be a recurring thing then?" Robin quipped dryly. "Somebody having to pull me out of the woods and saving my butt?"

Chrom chuckled anxiously. "Let us hope not."

Robin noticed that at his side, Tharja had slowed down a little.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, her face once again hidden by her beautiful bangs. "How is this recurring?"

Robin suddenly felt incredibly ill again. Next to him Chrom and Lissa grew a shade paler as well. Feeling the atmosphere being consumed by Tharja's intimidating aura, Robin shut his eyes for a moment, preparing himself for the worst. After all, she wanted him to rely on and trust her with everything. So why not start now.

"Remember when I was out for a while?" Robin began his explanation, feeling the pleading stare of Chrom, internally begging him to stop.

Tharja shot a hateful glance towards the Ylissian prince who had now grown sick similarly to Robin. "Yes. Chrom said you had a fever and needed time to rest."

Robin turned his head back towards Chrom in disbelief. The tactician knew his friend had a hard time deceiving people, but that was pretty weak. What would he have done if Robin hadn't recovered?

"Well that's not quite what happened," he continued. "I went out on my own that morning, seeking some alone time after our, uhm, conversation from the night prior. Unfortunately, I wasn't alone. Aversa had somehow managed to track us down. The witch attacked me on my own and stabbed me. She killed me."

Tharja jerked back a little, those last three words feeling like a dirk to her chest.

"How is that possible? No, you are right here. Don't lie to me."

"It's true," Lissa said, her tiny voice barely reaching their ears. "I did all I could to try and heal his wounds, but he had long passed that point. It was futile. Despite this Robin just... woke up the next day. There was no reason to it. He should have been dead, permanently."

Tharja moved in front of Robin, her eyes remained hidden from his gaze. "Show me."

Taking a second to grasp her request, Robin eventually obliged and lifted his shirt. Beneath it lay a small, white scar. Barely the size of her index finger, Tharja moved her hand over it and traced it gently. A single tear appeared on her motionless visage. "I'll kill her."

Knowing full well that any intimate actions would only further complicate their relationship, Robin couldn't help but wrap his arms around her and pull her close. Even if he couldn't fully understand her feelings towards him, the pain she was holding deep within her was heart wrenching to him. Robin simply couldn't allow her to stay that way.

"I won't let anybody touch you ever again," Tharja softly whispered into his ear. "You are mine. I will keep you safe. Forever."

* * *

 _This one was difficult as I kept changing my opinion on what I wanted to even do with this chapter. I took it into four different directions before settling on this one.  
Also all of your reviews, thoughts and critiques are welcome and are the reason I want to continue this!  
One point I thought I should address was that, yeah, Virion wasn't developed at all until I killed him off. I used to excuse that people who played the game would already know who he is, how he interacts with the other members, but I guess in the end that's just lazy writing and I should have done more with that. I'll try to keep that in mind for future chapters._


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